


Your pain is my painkiller

by Void (EroEmo)



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Ballroom Dancing, Bossy Armitage Hux, Bottom Kylo Ren, Canon Compliant, Choking, Fist Fights, Hand Jobs, Kylo/Rey implied, Light Masochism, Light Sadism, M/M, Mild Blood, Mild Painplay, Minor Injuries, POV Alternating, Top Armitage Hux, Unresolved Sexual Tension, at the very least Kylo, they probably have feelings for each other but they are still oblivious to that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 07:31:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13141965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EroEmo/pseuds/Void
Summary: Kylo misses those simple times when all he needed to calm down was a proper fight with somebody. Before he became the Supreme Leader and had to think about his actions beforehand. Before all of this mess.He thinks he should go back to it.





	Your pain is my painkiller

**Author's Note:**

  * For [try_reset (technorat)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/technorat/gifts).



> The Last Jedi inspired me to write a fic with those two, and to use and old idea of them fighting their way through their feelings. Also it's a nice coincidence it's Christmas time because I was double as motivated to finish this piece and make it a gift for a wonderful friend.
> 
> So, Merry Christmas Josh ❤️

It was not appropriate, this feeling.

This unnerving little thing squirming inside of him, threatening to come out any minute. Resulting in darting eyes, a twitching upper lip and sweaty hands beneath his gloves. When was the last time his palms were sweating, for Empire’s sake? It was at the very least a solid punch into his dignity.

Wet shaky hands were nothing more than a sign of the weak. That inner flaw, demonstrating through one’s body. Truly humiliating experience, being betrayed by your own body in such plain manner.

He had grown out of it when he was eight.

But now it seemed to came back, a slimy eel-like thing carefully investigating each single part of his intestines whenever Ren appeared in his line of sight.

It was unsettling, this feeling.

* * *

 

Whenever he looked in the mirror, he could see it. Those hopeful eyes, searching for good in him. Asking, _begging him_ to let all of it go. To come back home.

To mother. To uncle Chewie. To uncle Luke. To everything that he had left behind so long ago and wanted to bury somewhere deep, where light would never reach it, ever since.

Those hopeful eyes darting away as she realised he’d already made his mind. Taking her hand away and reaching for a lightsaber.

Whenever he looked in the mirror, he could see it all. But what made it so upsetting was that he couldn’t shake that strange thing off his chest. As if something was attached to it, clinging to it more and more, each time he thought of her.

Kylo didn’t want that, he had better things to worry about.

Snoke being dead, the Supreme Leader title now belonged to him. He rightfully earned it. It didn’t even take much to convince Hux to surrender to him, Force once again proving itself a great advantage.

And yet, _and yet…_

A knocking to the door brought his attention, Hux allowing himself into his room while keeping a proper distance.

“Supreme Leader,” he started, a twitch of his mouth suggesting he still wasn’t used to calling Kylo like that. “The First Order is waiting for your guidelines. Rebelliants had flied yet patrols are all alerted, looking for any signs of The Resistance in all corners of the Galaxy. As for the loss of valuable assets like Captain Phasma, all necessary-”

“Okay,” he said firmly, official reports like that making his head dizzy. It resembled those moments when Leia was stressed and started to lecture him in That Voice. “For now I leave all things regarding The First Order’s inner hierarchy up to you, General. I believe you won’t fail me in this matter.”

“Thank you, sir,” Hux answered, one of his eyebrows slightly raised. Just as something was off for him.

Not that Kylo didn’t know that.

He knew he sounded off. That he acted off. That this- all of this was _off._ Somehow, nothing and everything changed at the same time since the battle on Crait. It was both his personal and Order’s humiliation.

The Resistance, small as it was, gave them - _him -_ a solid kick in the guts. Even if not physically, mentally for sure. Morale were low. No one had any idea what to do now except for continuing on looking for Rey, Leia and all of that hideous pack.

It was a purpose, sure. But for how long?

* * *

 

Two months or so had passed since the so-called Crait Incident. New planets were ready to surrender or simply join the Order, being as compliant as ever. People thought that new leader meant more freedom and maybe even a chance for something resembling freedom.

Oh, how wrong they were.

Sure, Ren didn’t look like a person made for politics but it turned out he had something that Snoke didn’t.

As upcoming events showed, he could be _charming._ His scar was the only reminder that he actually was a warrior and not the pretty young leader of a dangerous organisation, seemingly out of place.

The new position made him, to Hux utter surprise, quite reasonable and composed. His outbursts were rarely happening now, though he could feel Ren’s anger in the air just as before he had become a Supreme Leader. Not to mention droids being sent to his quarters over and over again, for cleaning purposes. Sometimes it looked like some minor garbage, sometimes it appeared to be entire door torn to pieces.

No one said anything to it nor dared to mention it out loud.

Hux wasn’t worried about that, though. The only thing that was constantly on his mind seemed to be present since the day Snoke had been killed. That eel in his guts, growing bigger whenever Ren used Force on him.

He _hated_ that. He was either being choked or thrown at different walls, floors or consoles, there was nothing pleasant to being treated like a rag.

And _yet_ he couldn’t help looking in the mirror each time after such incidents, his ungloved fingers tracing the invisible marks on his neck or arms. Searching for signs of Ren’s presence, knowing there would be none.

It was a stupid thing to do, frantically looking for bruises other than those made from the impact, trying to remember the feeling. Of being out of breath. Of being grabbed and pushed as if he weighed nothing.

“You’re pathetic,” he was saying each time to the reflection, that inner eel squirming happily in his guts.

He would love to stay oblivion to why all of this was happening to him.

Unfortunately, each time he spoke to their Supreme Leader he felt he was yet another step closer to know the truth about himself. And he didn’t like it one bit.

* * *

 

“How’s everything going, General?”

“All invitations are sent, necessary decoration and supplies on their way, sir.”

Kylo nodded, looking to the handed pad. As much as he didn’t like the idea of ‘sharing’, he had to admit he would be lost without Hux.

He was young and therefore unexperienced with handling politics. He knew how to behave, all manners and etiquette learnt in early childhood, however he was more than aware he lacked knowledge in many aspects.

Hux, on the other hand, had to make his way up to the top. He probably knew more about politic games and affairs than half of the high class people on this side of the Galaxy. He was _painfully_ useful, to Kylo’s discontent.

You can make people surrender with terror, you can make them fear you with terror. You can make them obey with it. However, you cannot rule them with only that. People need a fasade, something to cling onto when everything goes wrong.

That’s why they were organising a small meeting with people from the upper class, a perfect opportunity to exchange pleasantries and pretend that life wasn’t that bad. That everything was totally fine.

Buying people with two dances and polite smiles was surprisingly easy. Remaining calm and unbothered by their remarks less so. Not to mention actually throwing the whole thing, organisation never being one of his assets.

But, once again, Hux was right there, ready to step in.

At this point it was quite safe to say they were co-running the First Order, each one of them taking a proper piece of responsibilities. Sometimes arguing and fighting, but overall functioning rather well.

He was now flicking through pictures of people invited, not really paying attention to their names or affiliations.

That is, until the face of one woman appeared, her eyes triggering a memory of an extended hand and hopeful look. Unreturned when faced with reality, dead bodies all around the throne room.

“Supreme Leader?” Hux said warily, only then Kylo noticing he was tightly gripping the pad. Threatening to break it in half.

“General,” he started, handing him the pad back. “Do you remember our sparring matches? Just as I joined the Order?”

Hux seemed to be taken aback by such a sudden and odd question, not that he blamed him. He would also be surprised by it.

“Yes, I do,” he answered eventually, his gaze fixed on him, suspicion clear in his eyes.

“Would you like to come back to it?” Kylo asked sincerely, turning to him. “I need to put some things off my mind and training alone is not enough. No Force involved.”

“Would you like to hear an honest opinion, sir?” Hux said after dwelling on the thought, still pretty wary of his intentions. Looking for a motive in all of this.

“Yes.”

“I think you have plenty of other options to choose from in this situation and that asking me this is, to put it simply, strange. However, as long as it’s going to be hand-in-hand combat, I would be willing to try.”

He smiled at that, the thought of something so simple as a fist fight already lifting his spirits. In all of that, destroying the past and building something new from ashes, he dearly missed glimpses of mundane activities. Meditation far away from other people. Climbing steep hills. Or punching shit out of other people only with physical strength, for that matter.

* * *

 

The first minute he heard Ren’s request, he felt like throwing up and laughing at the same time. It was just so out of place and yet perfectly suitable, just as if the entire universe collapsed and rearranged itself in the glimpse of an eye.

They agreed on seeing each other in the training room, Hux making sure no one would be around it that time. The last thing both of them needed was being seen by Stormtroopers or Lieutenants, all bloody and bruised.

He checked himself before leaving his room, uniform left in the wardrobe, only sweatpants and tank top on. He didn’t even bother to put any boots on, the whole ship being sterile and experience telling him fighting with Ren barefoot was much more comfortable.

The ever-present, unsettling feeling intensified the second he agreed on sparring match and now, as he was heading the training room, it felt double as fierce. Wanting to get out by tearing him apart.

There was something thrilling to it and yet, Hux felt worried.

All of this disappeared the second Ren entered the room, similar outfit to his own. He wasn’t sure why but it felt like something heavy hit the bottom of his stomach, sending shivers all over his body in mere seconds.

“Is everything ready?”

“Monitoring is off and all of crew instructed to avoid this area for upcoming hours, just as stated” he reported, stretching his arms and legs. “Usual rules, sir?”

“Yes,” Ren answered, stretching as well. “Though I want to highlight one thing.”

Hux looked at him expectantly, Kylo finishing his warm up.

“In this room I’m not a Supreme Leader and you’re not a General,” he straighten up, his voice steady and serious. “We are just two men fighting.”

He cocked his eyebrow but nodded, dwelling on this request. It was weird but actually nice. If he happened to punch Ren straight in the face, he would not feel a single bit anxious about latter consequences.

They headed to the ring, fighting gloves put on and muscles stretched. Usual rules meant fair play most of the time, no Force involved. Patting tatami three times to accept the defeat.

As soon as they nodded at each other, they engaged in combat.

Ren was taller and stronger than him and only an imbecile would doubt that. He also had a lot of stamina and, whether it was an advantage or not, he was stubborn. It was a dangerous mix and Hux was perfectly aware of that.

His slim posture and reflex were basically his only advantages, muscle memory from academy days the only thing saving his skin right now.

Kylo seemed _angry._ And not in his usual sense.

He ducked from his left cross, succesfully slicing his leg. Ren lost his balance and hit the ground, Hux taking the opportunity and nailing him down with his forearm on his throat.

It didn’t take Ren long to get back on his feet but at least Hux could repay him for that choking in the throne room. Even if a little bit.

The whole training room was now filled with heavy breathing and sweat, Kylo using all he had to pin him down to the floor. After fifth duck in the row Hux felt dizzy for a split second and it was the chance Ren was looking for.

His head hit the tatami, stars dancing in front of his eyes.

Ren tried to repay him, his forearm cutting air out. This was _far_ stronger than that time in throne room and it took all strength Hux had left in him to hit the tatami. When Kylo got the message and took the arm, he was gasping for breath, whole world spinning.

“Up to round two?” He asked him after a minute when he steadied his breathing.

“You sure have a lot of things to clear your mind from,” was all he managed to say, muscles unused for so long starting to ache. But he stood up, preparing for another round.

Not because he wanted to comply to Ren’s wishes, no. He was straightforwardly _mad._ No way he was going to leave this place without at least _trying_ to let that anger go. Especially because of such a great opportunity to see the First Order official leader bleed here and there.

* * *

 

Droid in medbay made it clear: broken nose and minor bruises all over the body. Surprisingly, nothing hurt him. Or at least not that much that he would feel bothered by it.

He felt impressed, actually.

Seeing Hux collecting himself after being almost choked to death spelled another turn of events and yet here he was, sitting with bloody pulp on his face, waiting for it to be healed.

A somewhat fond smiled quirked on his lips. It really was a good idea, to come back to sparring matches. They were simple and required nothing beside primal instincts and strength. Sometimes it was all he needed to calm down. To forget.

However, to his discontent, two rounds were way too little. Memories wouldn’t stop coming back so he wouldn’t stop bubbling all the anger and irritation up. Even though he let some of it go, it still wasn’t enough.

So, as soon as he left the medbay, Kylo headed to Hux’s quarters with yet another proposition. He had a strange feeling the General wouldn’t say no.

He was right.

Hux looked, well, bad. Blue was visible even from under the uniform, bruises also showing on his chin and ungloved hands. He seemed tired, worn out and not in the mood for whatever business Kylo could have for him. The fact he acted perfectly like his everyday self was probably thanks to the Supreme Leader title and nothing else.

Nevertheless, when the new proposition was laid out, his eyes seemed to light up with a strange mixture of excitement and something unnamed. Something feral.

Words couldn’t describe how much Kylo did anticipate the next sparring match. And all of them that would come after that.

* * *

 

The long awaited social gathering finally took place, some lonely planet chosen for that purpose. Marleyvane, if Hux remembered correctly. It didn’t have any particular meaning to neither the Order nor the guests. Sure, that was their territory, technically, but it also was the perfect place to held a meeting like this.

People seemed to be enjoying themselves, glass clinking and chit-chats being exchanged all the time. It amused him, how that the upper crust looked actually surprised by how well mannered the Supreme Leader was. Nothing but polite and cunning, dancing with guests on the dancefloor and earning their trust with those small smiles which made him look like an actual teenager.

It was so easy, to manipulate people with good first impression. The higher in social hierarchy they were, the easier it became to convince them to resign themselves to the First Order. Incredible.

The band finished playing for now, the Supreme Leader bowing and kissing a hand of some noble woman. He spotted him, standing all by himself in the corner, carefully watching the whole place. He raised an eyebrow at him but didn’t walk up, preparing himself for yet another dance instead.

Even from his place in the corner Hux could say Ren would love to be anywhere but there. They had known each other for long enough to notice at least something like this. He sighed, gesturing at the droid to bring him a glass. He wasn’t particularly fond of alcohol but social events like this made him mentally exhausted and stimulation was very appreciated, no matter in what form.

Just as he took a sip, somebody appeared in his line of sight. Young man, before his thirty, with pricey-looking outfit put on his average body. Noticeably hazel eyes indicating blood bond to one of senators invited to the gathering. Probably a son.

They exchanged pleasantries, Hux trying to appear as polite as possible. The man’s father was an important figure and it could be beneficial, to win his son over.

That was mostly the reason why he didn’t decline the request, a hand inviting him to the dancefloor. He disliked the whole idea of the activity but what could man do about duty calls? He accepted the hand, letting himself being led to the dancefloor and gently turned here and there, smooth movements not out of ordinary in the dancing mass.

Only then he was handed over to somebody else, the whole thing apparently being the excuse-me dance now. Oh well, he could had had it worse. As long as his partner knew what they were doing, there was no difference to with whom he danced.

That is, until third or fourth exchange, when strangely known hands got him. He didn’t even have to look up to see who was his partner now, pitch black clothing swaying on the floor pretty much giving Ren away.

Now it was awkward.

No one seemed to notice that the Supreme Leader was dancing with his own General and probably that was for the best for everyone. However, they had to carry on, stay in the rhythm or else someone could spot the odd pair.

Hux sighed heavily, maintaining an emotionless face.

It was quite a challenge, mostly because all of his senses were screaming at the same time. _Run. Fight. Kill._ The last sparring match with Ren had left his mind on the alert and now, being so close to him as in the fight, it seemed impossible to shut them down.

“You’re tensed, General,” he heard, looking up to see Ren intensively looking at him, a spark of amusement playing somewhere in those eyes.

“It’s only natural, sir,” he said, chin up. “The last time I was so close my fist broke your nose. Muscle memory is never asleep.”

Ren snorted, letting that somewhat inappropriate language pass. Hux knew he shouldn’t be talking to him like that. It was out of place, disrespectful. Insulting to the hierarchy of the Order, even.

But oh, how much was it _tempting,_ to speak freely like this to _Ren,_ of all of people.

The dance ended and so did their short conversation. Each single person thanked their partner and then continued on dancing to other pieces or focused on food and idle chats. Just pleasantries of social gatherings, always the same no matter the place in the Galaxy.

The young man from before found him once again, this time offering a drink. They talked a bit, Hux silently thinking of ways he could use the man to get to his father. The Supreme Leader disappeared somewhere in the crowd, dancing one moment and then discussing private matters with important guests in the other. The whole meeting run peaceful and smooth.

The only inconvenience was the ever-present eel, this time sending sparks through Hux’s whole body, making his hands _itch._

He couldn’t get rid of it for the whole evening.

* * *

 

There was no other choice left or so he thought when he clicked _send_ on the datapad. Kylo took a deep breath and headed to the ship in his training clothes, his composure disappearing with each step.

Everything was running smoothly up to the point where he had a pleasure to meet a particular woman. Her eyes were triggering memories and Force connection all the time, pushing him to the edge more and more, _and more_.

The fact he hadn’t killed her right there was by a sheer luck. And literally destroying half of the room somewhere far away from the main event didn’t help one bit. He still felt _rage_ beneath his skin, all thoughts and. feelings mixed up and pulsing in his veins.

If a quick sparring match with Hux didn’t help, nothing would.

Kylo was stretching as the other man entered the gym, this one being much smaller than their usual one on the main ship. Well, anything would do, at least in Kylo’s opinion. As long as no one saw them everything was more or less fine.

Hux didn’t seem to agree.

“There has to be a really good reason for us to fight again, in conditions like _these,_ ” he said with exasperation, not even trying to hide it.

He understood that, taking the fact it was about three hours since last notification from General into consideration. Hux was sending those only just before going to sleep so Kylo’s message probably woke him up from really needed sleep. Oh well.

“You could refuse,” he replied lightly, both of them knowing it wasn’t true.

Hux said nothing to it, starting his own warm up.

As they took their respective places on the ring, Kylo focused on all the negativity that filled him this afternoon. Too familiar eyes. Begging look and stretched hand. Scowl of betrayal and shutting door.

Soon, the anger filled him and both his hands started to itch, craving pain. To give it. Lavishly.

His mind shut down. The body went on autopilot. Left cross. Duck. Right cross. Central hit. Block. Duck. Block. Left cross. Kick in the thigh. Elbow hit.

Only when he felt a hand on his face, so feverishly trying to get his attention, his awareness kicked in. He stopped squeezing Hux’s throat, a sound of a desperate gasp for air filling the room.

“I-”

“You almost killed me,” he coughed, trying to stabilize his breathing. “Again.”

“Again?”

“Choking me with the Force still counts as choking,” Hux spluttered with a smirk, coughing some more.

Kylo wanted to add something but he didn’t actually know what. No lie was said here.

“I might have got swept away,” he eventually admitted, flumping down next to the heavy-breathing Hux.

He clearly heard _you don’t say_ in his mind but he ignored that. The fact he could read the other man’s thoughts with such clarity was only an indication of how agitated Hux was right now. Not that he blamed him.

“So, everything because of a little scavenge girl, huh,” Hux said after a minute or two, taking him aback.

“How-”

“You was mumbling her name while choking me,” he explained, sneeringly, his hand tracing the throat where just a moment before Kylo’s hands were.

In that moment, the floor appeared to be an amazing thing. So interesting that Kylo couldn’t lift his gaze up from it. Everything thanks to his own lack of control. Where was his usual confidence when he needed it? Damn it.

“You have feelings for her.” It wasn’t a question. But it wasn’t a statement either. Just something in between. Kylo had never heard Hux speaking like that.

His usual way of talking was stable. Solid. Strong and cut to the point. Official and deprived from any emotion other than anger. Sometimes disgust. But this? This was new.

“Yes. No. Maybe,” he sighed, finally looking up from the floor. “You gonna use it against me?”

“If I was it wouldn’t be the wisest thing to tell you, Supreme Leader.”

Kylo sighed once again, standing up. He looked at still sitting Hux, something squirming inside of him as he saw him like that. All beaten up and in disarray.

“That’s why you’re a Grand Marshal, Hux.”

He gave him a puzzled look, eyebrows furred.

“I’m not a Grand Marshal.”

“You are now. You’ve just been promoted,” and with these words Kylo left, bad feelings about all of this slowly gathering up in his guts.

* * *

 

 _This is madness,_ he thought while showering, hot water washing the rest of the soap away.

 _This is ridiculous,_ he thought as he turned the water off, stepping out of the cube.

He wiped the steam up the small mirror in the bathroom, a miserably looking face the first thing he was seeing. The second thing is a delicate trace of fingers, still visible on his pale neck, even though two weeks had passed since his almost-death.

There were other marks on his body but he paid no attention to them, too preoccupied with remembering _the sensation_ of Ren’s hands on his throat, steadily squeezing the air out of his lungs. That time he used only his bare hands and Hux tried his best to remember all of them. Their shape, warmth, strength.

He had to be sick. There was no other explanation to why he was feeling so _alive_ back then. Back to when Ren was on the verge of killing him.

And to why now he felt so weirdly _empty,_ basically all of the Order under his command as Grand Marshal, since Supreme Leader left on a mission to the Outer Rims.

It was like fulfilling most of his dreams and yet. _And yet._ Something seemed to be missing. And that was unnerving.

Irritating enough that he almost lost his composure and killed a man because of a minor inconvenience that was not actually their fault.

He put on his sleeping shorts and tank top, wishing for this day to be finally over, first time since the Starkiller catastrophe. He had problems with his temper, first time in a _decade._ It was nothing like his usual, collected self. And that was worrisome.

Even more so because Hux knew, somewhere deep in his guts, why all of this was happening to him now. That wasn’t reassuring one bit.

He let himself fall asleep, his mind idly wondering if Ren was about to choke him right here and then, would he be able to fight back.

* * *

 

“I’m truly surprised you came,” Kylo said, seeing the other man entering the gym.

“Benefits outweigh the risk,” Hux explained shortly, not even caring to look at him. He straight up went to his usual place in the corner, stretching his arms and legs.

It’d been a month since their last sparring match and if this break thought Kylo anything, it would be that he had no healthy coping mechanisms.

He had lots of time to think about what happened and to dwell on unpleasant memories. Unfortunately for him and his crew, he also had lots of time to cool down by destroying the important parts of the ship, mutilate some very unlucky people or do both simultaneously.

The mission to Outer Rims also showed that nobody was a good opponent to him. They were either too scared to fight seriously with him or actually too weak to do so. It left him with a conclusion that Hux, of all of the people, was not afraid to punch him, trusting that he will stick to the rules. Oh, irony.

Kylo tried not to let the anger consume him like the last time, focusing all of his attention on the opponent. After first few hits, it was clear Hux needed to hurt someone just as much as Kylo himself. He smiled at that thought, blocking the other one’s cross.

“What’s so funny?” He snarled, kicking him in the arm.

“Your anger,” Kylo replied, smiling some more and ducking. “Never saw you so… discomposed.”

Hux snorted, blocking his hit and trying to trip him up. Without a success.

Hit. Left cross. Duck. Hit. Block. Right cross. Kick. Duck. Hit. Duck. Left cross. Block. After a while it started to feel as a twisted dance, their bodies in a strange kind of sync. Hux seemed to notice this too because he decided on ruining it:

“Did you and that scavenge girl hook up that you are so slow now? Or maybe she sliced some of you with a lightsaber _again_?”

That was a very low tactic but it worked perfectly. He let his guard down, Hux taking the opportunity and throwing him off balance. However, instinct kicked in, Kylo trying to trip his opponent up.

In ended in both of them on the floor, Hux on top of him, his body weight pressing him to the tatami.

Their faces were so close their noses were basically touching.

“You played dirty,” Kylo said, breathing heavily right into Hux’s face and vice versa. “It’s unlike you.”

“It’s been over a month,” he replied, not even trying to move an inch away. “I needed something more than going circles on the ring.”

“You were restless without me?” Kylo smirked, his gaze now fixed on the other man’s eyes. They were so damn close…

“So were you,” it was remarkable, that he didn’t argue with that. Though, as usual, he was right. Kylo _was_ restive through past month.

Neither of them dared to move even a little bit, both bodies still being incredibly close. Pressing. Heating.

“Hux, your pupils are blown,” he noted, trying to think about literally anything other than the warmth he was starting to feel in his guts.

“How observant of you, _Supreme Leade_ r,” Hux commented, a mean smile quirking on his lips. “Were you so observant when that scavenge girl killed Snoke-”

“Shut up,” and with that last string snapping, Kylo _smashed_ their faces together, aggressive kiss bringing just as much pain as delight.

He felt a sharp strike of pain in his mouth and when he moved away, blood was smeared in the corner of Hux’s swollen lips. He added to that by smearing it even more with his thumb, somewhat endearing gesture making the other man frown.

Kylo didn’t give him a chance to say anything, once again bringing him close, using his teeth and tongue this time as well. Hux bit him and he could not _not_ repay that.

He knew he was hard by that time but he was consistently pushing that awareness out of his mind. That is, until Hux grabbed him and squeezed. _Hard._

The moan he made right into his mouth was at the very least embarrassing to him and amusing for Hux.

“Did someone get aroused by a simple fist fight?” He mocked, rubbing his cock through the sweatpants. “You sure are into unconventional practices, Ren.”

“And you sure as hell are bossy on the ring, _Grand Marshal,_ ” Kylo replied, swallowing his moan back, trying his best not to make another humiliating sound.

He smiled at his new title, boldly sneaking his hand under the sweatpants and grasping his dick through the thin fabric of the briefs. Kylo groaned against his will, moving his hips accordingly to Hux’s moving palm.

“You said yourself, _Supreme Leader,_ there is no titles in here,” he said, surprisingly tenderly kissing his jaw. “And so I’m not holding back in easing that tension.”

“Are you speaking about yourself or me?”

Hux bit into his neck, making him scowl and squashing another moan at the same time. It was a clear answer to the question: both.

Kylo didn’t want to admit it but now, as he was laying underneath the other man, being driven crazy by a mere _teasing,_ he loved every single second if this. Not being in charge, being bit and hurt in that oddly pleasant manner. There was something freeing to that, knowing somebody else had to make all of the decisions.

He liked being the Supreme Leader, commanding the First Order and having everyone ready for every single motion of his finger. However, he also enjoyed all of what was happening right now, with Hux heading.

What’s more, now he knew how to called that strange, squirming feeling in his guts that didn’t to go away those past weeks. Sexual tension. Who would have thought...

Hux twitched his hand, making Kylo’s hands balled on his head, threatening to pull some of that ginger hair out. He grimaced at the sudden pain, reciprocating it by biting real hard into the uncovered collarbone and sucking on it.

Pain mixed with pleasure so effortlessly just as if they had been a different sides of the same coin. Maybe they had but he never cared to notice that. Either way, now he was at the very verge of falling apart, old bruises, hickeys and being handjobed suddenly all too much.

Despite his efforts he quickly cummed, his hands absentmindedly wandering to Hux throat and face, clenching on them and probably leaving red marks. At this point he didn’t care he was blemishing that pretty face.

“You can’t stop choking me, huh,” Hux whispered shrewdly into his ear, making him realize what he was doing. But before he could reply to it, the other man added: “Not that I complain.”

Kylo snorted, bringing his face back to his own and kissing it, this time without a previous forcefulness or aggression. This one was gentle, almost tender.

“One could think you’re getting soft, Ren,” Hux smirked, slowly gathering himself up, trying to stand up.

It was a difficult task since Kylo was making sure he wouldn’t go anywhere for now. “I don’t think we are done, Hux.”

“Is that so?” He gave him a puzzled look, a mischievous spark playing behind that blue eyes. “I thought you’ve just let all of that negative tension from before go.”

“I’m a lot angrier than you know.”

“Typical,” Hux snorted, flicking his nose with the clean hand. “However, as your Grand Marshal, I advise you to learn _patience,_ Supreme Leader.”

Kylo groaned with exasperation, letting Hux go.

Unfortunately, he kind of had a point. Again.


End file.
